


His Terrible Master

by mosvalsky



Category: Fable (Video Games)
Genre: Blow Jobs, M/M, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con, headcanons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-05
Updated: 2014-08-05
Packaged: 2018-02-11 22:31:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2085630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mosvalsky/pseuds/mosvalsky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He began to hate the color red.</p>
            </blockquote>





	His Terrible Master

He had found himself bent down before his terrible master. His wretched claws were digging into his neck as his fingers tightly grasped his hair. Through his thinly open eyes, he could see only red. He began to hate that color. 

Again, Jack pulled much harder than necessary on Maze's hair, causing him to release a muffled moan. He wanted the task to be over as quickly and easily as possible, but his master tended to see to it that that desire was not fulfilled.

He wished too that he could see Jack's face in these moments. Would his visage, twisted with pleasure, give him the appearance of weakness? Or would he look more frightening than usual? He closed his eyes, trying to imagine him looking weak and human as he swirled his tongue over his swollen member. What he wouldn't give for such a sight. But all he could do now was imagine while he worked his mouth on him. There was no way he would be able to see his expression, not now, not ever. And he felt it was quite a shame. It might be the only time he showed imperfection, and the sight of something like that could possibly give him enough hope to try and fight against him and all this torture.

"Concentrate," Jack commanded in his rough, deep voice, "I can tell your mind is elsewhere, and there's no where it should be right now but on me." There was more than the usual threat in his tone, something unnerving enough that Maze actually submitted to his command without forethought and concentrated all his power on getting the bane of his existence off.

When he finally came, a feeling of relief struck Maze, which contrasted with the numbness he usually felt at this moment. 

"Good Boy, Maze," he said as he came off his climax. His fingers reached out to stroke his cheek. Maze flinched. The metal was cold against his flesh, and the condescending element behind it ground at him strongly. It was almost easier to take when the fingers running along his skin were leaving deep lacerations.

His lowered his head, hoping the show of false obedience would let him just leave. Jack laughed darkly, "Yes, I'm done with you for now. Leave me."

The relief Maze felt at the moment was unrivaled.

"Fuck!" He said loudly as he perched himself up on his pillows. It was the third time this week he had had a similar dream. It was becoming quite disturbing, as well as inconvenient. He was missing out on a lot of sleep that he really needed. 

He lay there for a while, eyes wide as he stared at the ceiling. He felt both hollowed out and incredibly annoyed, annoyed that he was being used in such a way, annoyed that he was submitting to such a man, and annoyed that this was bothering him in not only his waking hours but also in the only peace he ever got.

With a groan, he rolled over and tried his best to get some sleep. He failed  
completely.


End file.
